


Meet Cute

by abp



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-29
Updated: 2014-11-29
Packaged: 2018-02-27 10:53:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2690159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abp/pseuds/abp
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's a pizza, a juvenile delinquent, and a mother who is way too interested in her son's dating life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Meet Cute

“When is your mom going to be home with pizza?” Jehan whines for probably the third time.

Combeferre only rolls his eyes. They’re really not getting any studying done. “She’s still not done with her shift.”

“Can’t we have one delivered?” Joly tries now.

“I don’t have the money for it,” Combeferre says with a shrug.

“Well,” Jehan pauses thoughtfully. “Can’t we have it delivered to the station so your mom can bring it home right away?”

“Or we could pick it up from there,” Joly adds hopefully.

“That’s—“ Combeferre stops. “actually not a terrible idea.” He’s hungry too, okay.

Jehan beams. “Joly can order the pizza, you call your mom.”

Combeferre does, still flicking through his textbook as he listens to the phone ring and waits for her to pick up.

_“Ferre?_ ” she answers. “ _Is something wrong?”_

“Oh no,” he assures. “I’m just calling about dinner.”

_“Your friends are impatient?”_ she guesses—and correctly.

Combeferre grins a little. “Yeah, the pizza’s going to be delivered to the station. Are you there?”

His mother laughs lightly. “ _I’m bringing a seventeen-year-old boy back to the station now. It’ll be fifteen minutes, maybe.”_

“Is he cute?” Jehan chimes in—and Combeferre hadn’t even been aware the phone was loud enough for Jehan to hear. “I’m asking on Ferre’s behalf.”

“ _I don’t think it’d be appropriate for me to judge that,”_ she answers, clearly amused. There’s a pause and Combeferre can distinctly hear her saying, _“Hey, my son wants to know if you’re cute.”_

Combeferre’s a little mortified and he elbows Jehan—whose fault this is. “Mom—what are you—“

But then he hears, distantly over the line, _“Well, ma’am, I want to say yes.”_

His mother starts  laughing properly, and Combeferre’s not sure what to feel.

“Combeferre will have to judge him properly in person,” Jehan decides. “Tell him we’ll see him at the station.”

“ _Will do_ ,” His mother says, still laughing. Because she’s a horrible person.

Combeferre can’t get in another word before she hangs up.

“Jehan,” he scolds. “Why would you do that?”

Jehan only smirks. “You could use a boyfriend.”

If his friends weren’t traitors enough, Joly chooses to nod and add, “You really could.”

“But a delinquent my mother is bringing in?”

Jehan shrugs. “Meet cutes happen everywhere. Why not?”

“Because—because—“

“Hey, your mom wouldn’t have said yes if he was, like, a _real_ delinquent,” Joly adds. “He must have only done something barely illegal.”

Combeferre frowns and glares at the two of them.

He can’t get out of going to the station, though; not when their pizza is arriving there. But that doesn’t mean he can’t be completely grumpy the entire way there.

His mom is already there when they arrive and Combeferre can only hope that she’s already sent the guy home with his parents.

She hasn’t.

In fact, he’s sitting at his mother’s desk, facing away from them, and talking loudly.

“Does your son hit on _all_ the guys you bring in, or am I special?” The problem is he sounds cute and has great hair and Combeferre’s going to be really angry if Jehan’s right about this whole meet cute thing. “Because he sounds lovely, but also like he needs a better sense of self-preservation.”

Combeferre’s mother smiles smugly when she sees them. “Well, I think you can figure that out for yourself. He’s behind you.”

The cute criminal turns around, eyes widened in surprise and _god_ , he’s attractive.

“Tell me he’s the tall glasses-wearing one,” he says.

Combeferre feels his face heat up and elbows Jehan again, just knowing they’re smirking now. “I am.”

“Well then. Hi.” He grins, charmingly.

Combeferre can only manage to say “hi” back.

The silence between them feels much too long, and he’s almost grateful when his mother intervenes.

“Why don’t you three take Courfeyrac here home with you?” she suggests, her smile a little too pleased. “There aren’t any charges against him, and he could really use someone to keep him out of trouble.”

“I really could,” Courfeyrac agrees eagerly.

“I—you—really?” he looks to his mom, who nods.

Courfeyrac looks a little uncertain now. “If you don’t want me to—“

“You’re coming,” Joly interrupts firmly. “And you’re going to get to know Combeferre and when the two of you fall in love and get married, you’re thanking Jehan and me for this night.”

It’s nice to see Courfeyrac blush.

“Have fun,” his mother says smugly, sending them away with a wave, the pizza, and the seventeen-year-old she’d brought in for trespassing.

Combeferre’s still not sure exactly how this all happened, but he doesn’t think he minds at all.

 **

_Years Later:_

“I’m going to keep this short and to the point,” Combeferre says. “You’ll get a lot of elegant speechmaking in a second—Enjolras is coming up. But for me, there’s only a few things to be said—things that I _have_ to say or certain people will kill me. Namely, I have to thank Jehan and Joly both. Without those two being far too impatient and meddling, I would never have even been at the police station that night to be set up with the trespasser my mother didn’t have the heart to actually process. I should thank my mother as well, really. Thank you for your good judgment.”

He pauses. “I mean, it didn’t actually work like you hoped it would, in that my influence didn’t keep him out of trouble—instead you got a lot of late nights picking _both_ of us up from a police station. Sorry about that.”

He shifts a little, smiling softly. “Lastly, I want to thank Courfeyrac for a lot of things. For trespassing that night; for being ridiculous enough to go home with the son of the police officer that brought you in just because you thought he was cute; for changing my life completely; for being my best friend; for saying yes. I love you, and there’s no one else I could ever dream of spending my life with. So thank you, for that.”

“And to everyone gathered here to help us celebrate this day,” he turns his attention back to them and away from his teary-eyed new husband. “I am contractually obliged by Jehan to say: meet cutes really do happen everywhere.”

He sits then, as the crowd of their friends and family laugh pleasantly. Courfeyrac pulls him into a kiss immediately, leaning their foreheads together when it ends.

“I love you,” he murmurs.

Combeferre smiles. “I love you too.”


End file.
